“In time it was discouvered yt ye troblesome passenger hadde gonne downe and got ye anchor, and toke ye same and solde it to ye dam sauvages from ye interior, saying yt he hadde founde it, ye sonne of a ghun!”

Yet this ancestor had good and noble instincts, and it is with pride that we call to mind the fact that he was the first white person who ever interested himself in the work of elevating and civilizing our Indians.  He built a commodious jail and put up a gallows, and to his dying day he claimed with satisfaction that he had had a more restraining and elevating influence on the Indians than any other reformer that ever, labored among them.  At this point the chronicle becomes less frank and chatty, and closes abruptly by saying that the old voyager went to see his gallows perform on the first white man ever hanged in America, and while there received injuries which terminated in his death.

The great grandson of the “Reformer” flourished in sixteen hundred and something, and was known in our annals as, “the old Admiral,” though in history he had other titles.  He was long in command of fleets of swift vessels, well armed and, manned, and did great service in hurrying up merchantmen.  Vessels which he followed and kept his eagle eye on, always made good fair time across the ocean.  But if a ship still loitered in spite of all he could do, his indignation would grow till he could contain himself no longer—­and then he would take that ship home where he lived and, keep it there carefully, expecting the owners to come for it, but they never did.  And he would try to get the idleness and sloth out of the sailors of that ship by compelling, them to take invigorating exercise and a bath.  He called it “walking a plank.”  All the pupils liked it.  At any rate, they never found any fault with it after trying it.  When the owners were late coming for their ships, the Admiral always burned them, so that the insurance money should not be lost.  At last this fine old tar was cut down in the fulness of his years and honors.  And to her dying day, his poor heart-broken widow believed that if he had been cut down fifteen minutes sooner he might have been resuscitated.

Charles Henry Twain lived during the latter part of the seventeenth century, and was a zealous and distinguished missionary.  He converted sixteen thousand South Sea islanders, and taught them that a dog-tooth necklace and a pair of spectacles was not enough clothing to come to divine service in.  His poor flock loved him very, very dearly; and when his funeral was over, they got up in a body (and came out of the restaurant) with tears in their eyes, and saying, one to another, that he was a good tender missionary, and they wished they had some more of him.